


a soft place to land

by pheonix85



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Moody Peter Parker, Not A Fix-It, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie) - Freeform, Speculation, This Is Sad, eating issues (slight), or it's meant to be sad you be the judge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 02:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18437132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pheonix85/pseuds/pheonix85
Summary: The events of Endgame leave devastation in its wake. Peter is having a hard time and it's difficult, to let the people in his life help him through it.At least he still has Tony.





	a soft place to land

**Author's Note:**

> i saw Waitress again last weekend---the title is one of the songs in the show and the idea got stuck in my head so I figure if I post it I may be able to finish the OTHER updates i'm trying to get done. this is meant to be sad; there's no real happy ending here so you've been forewarned.

 

“What are you doing here, Pete?”

 

Peter looks up when Tony says his name. The older man’s face is creased in thought and concern, peering at him from across the lab. His arms are folded over his chest, and his ankles are crossed as he leans against his workbench, which lacks its usual clutter. 

 

“I---” Peter begins softly. He takes a few steps further into the lab, hiking his backup up where it sits on his shoulders. “I just wanted to see if you were here.”

 

“I thought we talked about this, buddy,” Tony’s voice is softer this time, more gentle, and he pushes himself away from the table. He walks towards Peter slowly with a somber expression, as if he trying to explain something to a small child. “I know it’s hard, but I’m not doing this kind of stuff anymore. I told you, I’m done. It’s your time now.”   
  


Peter's face feels hot. His chest gets really tight and his throat feels clogged and he clears it a few times, flushing more because he can feel Mr. Stark’s concerned stare. “I just...I mean I was here, and I just wanted to talk to you.” He shrugs. “I kinda miss you is all.”

 

Tony smiles then, gentle and halfway and his eyes grow fonder. “I miss you too, kiddo. Here,” He gestured towards Peter’s backpack. “Let me see the suit, I know that look.”

 

“Suits fine,” But Peter swings his bag so that only one strap is on his shoulder, pulling it to the front of his body. He unzips it and digs around inside of it before pulling the suit out and handing it over. Tony holds it in his hands, the fabric dangling from them and he frowns deeper. He rubs it between his fingers. 

 

“You were out late last night, weren’t you?”   
  


“Um…”   
  


“I can see it on your face,” Tony shakes his head. “Look, kid, all that stuff with Thanos was really rough and I know you’ve got this “save the world” complex but you need to take it easy a little.” He waves his hand in the air to elaborate without saying anything then lays the suit over DUM-E, who remains still throughout the exchange. “The world isn’t gonna fall apart if you’re not on call 24/7.”

 

“I’m not spending much more time out than before.”

 

Tony’s skepticism is clear in the look he gives Peter. Still, he only sighs, shaking his head. He gets closer, peering into the kid's face and brings a hand up to this cheek for a moment before resting it under Peter’s chin, tipping his head back as he leans in. “You’re under eye bags have bags, kid. You sleeping enough?”

 

Peter huffs a laugh, because how much sleep he is getting is definitely not the problem; it may not be necessarily restful/// but he sleeps a fine amount. “It’s not that bad. The other day, I saved these four kids from some creepy pair of dudes who were harassing them. And! There was this lady that almost got hit when a car jumped a curb, and I caught it.”

 

“Friendly, neighborhood Spiderman, just like I like to hear.” Tony can’t suppress the grin at the kids' excitement. “It’s good to see you, Peter. I’ve missed you too.” He steps back, wiping his hands. “Since you’re here, you might as well help me with something. Come over here, I’ve got something I want you to look at.”

  
He heads back towards his workbench and Peter grins, smiling like he hasn’t in weeks. 

 

This is where he wants to be.

 

* * *

 

“You look like shit.” 

 

Peter rolls his eyes and ducks his head. “Thanks, Ned. Love you too.”

 

“He’s right, though,” MJ chimes in, a smirk on her face; there’s a hint of concern, though, when she speaks again. “You’ve been different since you came back.”

 

Peter’s expression darkens and he glares up at her from where he’s rested his head on his arm. “Haven’t we all?”

 

“ _Dude_ ,” Ned chides. “We’re just saying. How long were you out last night?”

 

Peter glances over at MJ, who is watching him expectantly. He knows she knows; she told him after he came back from Titan, but he expects she’d at least thought about it for far longer than that. MJ was too smart not to have had her suspicions. He shrugs, eyes finding the table in front of him.

 

“I don’t know, I didn’t really keep track.” He squints, looking blankly at the cafeteria wall, thinking to himself. “Sun wasn’t quite coming up yet though.”

 

He already knows what they’ll say. The logical part of him knows that they’re right; he has basically been patrolling when he wasn’t in school, going straight out instead of back to the apartment he shared with his Aunt, and staying out until he was too exhausted to stay awake much longer. Rationally, he knows it’s not good for him; but he knows the alternative is that Titan will keep him awake forever if he doesn’t wear himself out.  He knows that he’ll lay awake, with the taste and grainy sensation of dust in his mouth, and the smell of red clay and blood in his nostrils.

 

So much blood.

 

His stomach turns. He glances down at his sandwich and notices he's only taken a couple of small bites. It’s better than nothing, and he grabs it, stuffing it back in it’s Ziploc bag and grabbing an unopened pack of chips to shove in his backpack for later. 

 

“Is that all you’re going to eat?” MJ asks quietly. Her arms are crossed over her chest now, tightly hugging herself and now even she looks serious, which is saying something. Peter bites back a growl of frustration and pushes himself up and off the cafeteria bench.

 

“I had a big breakfast,” He lies, grabbing his backpack from next to where he was sitting. “I’ll get something before I go out for the night, don’t worry about it.”

 

Ned makes a dissenting noise, his tone turning exasperated. “Where are you going? You can’t just leave lunch, what are you doing?”

 

“Library. I gotta get some stuff done before 6th period,” Peter shakes his head and skips away before Ned can say anything else, the double doors of the cafeteria swinging shut behind him. 

 

He scurries away and holes himself up in one of the less visited areas of the library, pulling a notebook from his bag.  He doodles and makes a few lists up of the neighborhoods he's been watching, making tick marks for all the issues he's sorted out and tries to proactively plan on where to focus on tonight. He almost misses the bell that alerts him it's time to go to his last period---thank goodness his fifth is a free one---and hurries for the hall, scrambling to make sure all of his stuff is present and accounted for when he walks towards the exit. He pulls up sharp when he sees MJ sitting at a table just in front of the door, arms crossed and waiting. 

 

"Did you follow me here?" He asks when she stands, his face twisting in a scowl. She shrugs.

 

"It's a communal library, Peter. I can go where I want."

 

"Well, enjoy it."

 

He moves to dart around her, but she steps in front of him. He stops quickly once more, and for the briefest of moments considers barrelling past her but he senses that will only make things worse. He settles back onto his heels, giving her an impatiently look and deep, irritated sigh. "Well?"

 

“Look, I get it. Or I mean,” Her eyes find the ceiling with a sigh. “I don’t _get_ it but---” She shrugs, leaning against the wall. “I can understand why it’s been hard for you. And I know I give you a lot of shit, but we’re here for you to talk to, Peter. We all lost something during the Snap.”

 

Peter knows she’s trying to help, and for MJ, this sort of upfront verbal support thing is _really_  outside of her comfort zone, so he bites his tongue. But he can’t stop shaking his head. “It’s not the same.”   
  


“I didn’t say it was. I just said we’re here,” She walks closer to him. Slowly, clearly uncertain of her own movement, she grabs his hand gently and squeezes it. “Peter, I’m worried about you. Ned is worried about you, I think----”

 

He pulls his hand away. “I’m fine, MJ. It’s all fine. I appreciate it, though, I’ll think about it---but I’ve really got to go, I’m gonna be late for class.”

 

He feels her watching as he walks away, speeding up quicker with every step as if he could move fast enough to outrun all of this; what had happened weeks ago, outrun all of the people that wanted him to talk about how this was going. Facing it meant moving forward and leaving everyone from before behind.

 

Peter wasn’t completely sure he was ready to do that yet.

 

* * *

 

“Back again huh?”

 

Peter shrugs this time, letting his backpack fall to the floor. “I had some questions about a Calc test I have coming up. Plus, I was out late last night, and I was having an issue with one of the web shooter combinations.”   
  


Tony’s face knitted in a frown. “Really? What did you do to it?”

 

“ _I_ didn’t do anything. I think Karen got confused about something."

 

Tony's frown deepens and Peter figures he should just do what he's told. He picks up the backpack just like last time, rifling through the contents and pulls out the suit in time with Tony's scoff. “An AI I created doesn’t get confused. It’s user error. It always is.”

 

“So now I don’t know the suit I’ve been using for two years?”

 

Tony gives him a sideways glance and a small grin to match Peter’s own playful smile. He takes the suit from him. “Gimme it.”

 

Tony walks it over to one of his laptops, pulling back the fabric and connecting it to run a diagnostic scan. He messes around with some of the menus, going through the UIs and his eyes narrow, leaning closer to the monitor.

 

“Ah. I see it.” He points at the screen. “The connection got a little screwy. You need to get in there and reconfigure a couple of things. Go on in, mess around this weekend when you’re out at the Compound, you’ll be able to figure it out.”

 

A pang of disappointment strikes deep. “You can’t help me with it?”

 

“Didn’t I just?” Tony asks with a grin. When Peter doesn’t return it, Tony sighs deeply. The grin is more of a grimace, now, the look he’s giving Peter more serious.

 

“You know I can’t, kid. You know _why_ I can’t.”

 

“It’s dumb,” Peter replies childishly, looking away. He hadn’t noticed when he first came in, but DUM-E is gone now; so are the other bots, and now the lab is just sparsely cluttered, a couple of laptops outside of the one Tony has the Spiderman suit hooked up to. 

 

“Yeah, well,” Tony shrugs in a what-can-you-do type of way. “I still think you should take a look at the Iron Spider suit again too, by the way. I know you’re not using it.”

 

An uneasy feeling begins to form in Peter’s stomach and he swallows hard. “I don’t like it.”

 

“Now. We both know that’s not true.”

 

“I don’t,” Peter insists. “Not anymore. I can’t…” He shakes his head. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

 

Tony studies him for a few minutes in silence, a thoughtful look on his face. “No. Not quite yet I guess. But someday, huh?”

 

Peter can’t ever imagine that, not right now. It’s still too fresh, too close; he can still feel the way the “Maybe.”

 

“Maybe?” Tony asks, mock-offended. “I worked really hard on that suit, Peter.

 

Peter knows he should laugh. He knows that’s what Mr. Stark is trying to get him to do, but he just can’t seem to bring himself to do it. When he speaks, the words come out in a tremulous whisper. “It’s just not the same, Mr. Stark.”

 

The smile on Tony’s face fades and Peter can tell he’s trying to mask his disappointment and further concern. “Yeah. Yeah, I get that. Okay, then, well,” Tony scratches his head, looking around the lab. “We’re kind almost done getting everything moved out but how about we find something to break and then fix again, huh? For old times sake?” He turns around. “One last time?”

 

Peter smiles brightly, though the words Tony have chosen strike a chord somewhere deep within him, nearly taking his breath away. He doesn’t want to think like that; apparently, if you ignore something long enough, maybe it doesn’t happen right? Maybe they can keep this up, his visits as long as Tony’s willing. He would be okay with that. 

 

* * *

 

“Peter? Peter, are you awake? Pet---” 

 

Aunt May’s voice stops when she pushes the door to his room open. He’s lying face down in bed, his head turned towards the wall, and as he hears her move closer he squeezes his eyes shut.

 

“I am now,” He grumbles, pushing his hands under his pillow, pressing his head in deeper. “Go ‘way.”

 

“Peter,” She begins. “It’s just past 3 in the afternoon. How late were you out last night?”

 

He grunts in response and curls into himself more, pulling his quilt up to his ears. He hears her socked feet shuffle closer over the rug and feels the bed bow where she sits on its edge. 

 

“I thought we agreed on school nights, you were only gonna be out until midnight,” She murmurs.

 

He finally lifts up enough to turn his head back her way, resting back on the pillow and looking up at her. “Not a school night. We had today off.”

 

She hums in response. Her expression falls a little and she brings a hand to sit on the top of his hair, massaging his curls. “You’re pushing yourself too hard.”

 

He pulls back a little away from her but allows her hand to stay threaded in his hair. “ ‘m not.” 

 

“Peter.”

 

“It wasn’t a school night,” He sits up, exasperated.

 

“I’m worried about you,” She says softly, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder, sliding to cup at his neck. “Happy is too. He said he heard you come in at 4 in the morning…”

 

“Happy wasn’t up at 4 in the morning,” Peter growls, shrugging her off finally. “I’m fine, Aunt May. I promise.”

 

“Maybe we should think about you talking to someone. What happened was---”

 

“I said, I’m _fine_.” He snaps, and May’s eyes widen in shock. He holds up his hands, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.” He works his tongue around in his mouth, calming himself down. “I’m just tired. You’re right, I stayed out too late.” He pushes himself off his bed, walking towards the closet. “It won’t happen again.”

 

He feels her watching him as he continues around his room, picking up loose pieces of clothes and throwing them in the hamper, moving stuff around, anything to try and get her to leave. When she doesn’t, he stops, sighing deeply, clenching his hands at his sides tightly. 

 

“I’m fine. I’m just tired. And maybe…” He shrugs, turning around. “I mean, maybe it would be okay. If it would make you feel better.”

 

Her concern doesn’t seem to abate. “I want it to make _you_ feel better.”

 

Peter swallows. He doesn’t want to talk about this. He doesn’t want to talk about any of it, he doesn’t want to rehash what happened on Titan. He’s already talked to a number of the others about it, more for just a basic rehashing of what actually occurred, and they had suggested more than a couple of therapists he could talk to, those that worked for the government and knew who and what he was, so he can be completely honest with them. They could help him work through everything, but he didn’t want to. He just wanted to forget that it ever happened, that he had ever gone to space and fought a giant purple alien, that he had----

 

He takes a shuddering breath, and he curls in on himself. “Okay. Okay,” He agrees, and he nods. “I’ll talk to Mr. Wilson when I get to the Compound. He already tried to talk to me about some of it but I...I just wasn’t in the mood.”

 

May slides up off the bed and walks over to him, setting her elbows on his shoulders and reaching back into his hair. “I think it’ll help, I really do. And that’s a good idea, talking to Sam. He’ll at least know where you’re coming from.”   
  


Peter nods silently. 

 

“How about you get a shower, and get ready? Happy is gonna be swinging by to pick you up to go upstate in about an hour.” She gives him a gentle, cajoling smile. “And I made pizza rolls because I know you love them.”

  
And he did love them. Aunt May always said they were complete garbage, but she kept a bag on hand for times like these. He hadn’t eaten since last night, and at the realization, his stomach growled. 

 

There’d been a lot of times like these, it’d turned out, these past few weeks. 

 

He looks up at her and even though he’s slept for probably close to 11 hours, he finds he’s exhausted all over again. Aunt May’s expression becomes serious and Peter feels a little like crying.

 

It’s been 6 weeks. He’s so tired of feeling like crying.

 

She pulls him into a hug, arms tight around his shoulders and he buries his face against hers. “I promise I’ll do better. I’m sorry I’ve worried you.”

 

“Oh, honey,” She whispers, hands threading through his hair. “We’re gonna figure this out, I promise it’ll get better. I know you’re doing your best.”

 

Peter wasn’t sure about all that, except maybe the last part. Doing his best…

 

Weren’t they all?

 

* * *

 

“This isn’t healthy, Pete.”

 

Tony is in a three-piece suit. It’s nicer than any of them Peter has ever seen him in, and that’s saying a lot. They're in the lab, but it’s empty---there’s no DUM-E or Butterfingers, no workbooks or papers strewn about. It’s pristine, stripped bare; Tony’s standing in the middle of it, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Peter already knows what’s about to happen but he’s not ready.

 

It’s never been enough time.

 

“Pepper’s worried. So is May, and Happy, and your friends,” Tony starts to approach him. “I’m worried about you too. This isn’t like you.”

 

“Everything else is different now, too.”

 

Tony nods in to understand. “A lot of things are different now. And that’s okay, that's to be expected.” He shakes his head. “But not this. You’re sleeping too much. You’re not eating enough, especially for your metabolism. You’re staying out too late, you’re pushing too hard.”

 

“I’m not. I can handle it.” 

 

“I didn’t say you can’t handle being Spiderman,” Tony assures, holding a hand up in a placating gesture. “But you’re taking on too much. I know exactly what you’re doing, and I’m telling you, this whole lone gunslinger, pouring yourself into your work so you don’t have to deal with stuff? It is not the way to fix anything.”

 

Peter takes a breath, and everything from his waist up feels tight. He realizes that tears are gathering at the corners of his eyes and, from the look on Tony’s face, he sees it too. Embarrassed, Peter rubs at his face, a flash of annoyance spiking within him. 

 

“There’s no one else _left_ ,” He spits, stepping forwards a few paces. Tony doesn’t move. “Sam and Natasha and Colonel Rhodes all stay at the Compound, Cap is _dead_ and you----” Peter’s words are choked off. He’s shaking now with whatever he can’t place, anger or frustration or just an overall sense of being lost. “I don’t know how else to do it. It’s impossible.”

 

“Nothing’s impossible, kid,” Tony reassures gently. “Especially when it comes to you. You just gotta let them help you. They’re going through it all too. You gotta let people help you.”

 

A petulant whine escapes with a throaty gasp of exasperation before he speaks. “I want you.”

 

“I know, buddy,” Tony presses his hand to Peter’s face and Peter leans into the touch, desperate to feel it but the warmth never quite manages to manifest. Tony wipes a thumb across his cheek as a tear falls. “But I gotta go. For now. I’ll be back around, though, someday. For when you really need me, when it’s right. But for now, you gotta figure this out on your own.”

 

“Tony, please,” Peter’s eyes burn as they fill with tears and his vision blurs. “Please, don’t leave me here. I don’t want you to go.”

 

“You’re stronger than you realize, kid. Always have been. I’ve always known it, from that first day back in Queens in your room.” Tony pulls his hand back and Peter bites his lip to keep from objecting to it. 

 

“It’s _not fair_.”

 

“I know.”

 

“ ** _Please_**.”

 

Tony smiles sadly at him and begins to walk back towards the door, taking slow steps. “I love you, Peter.”

 

Peter feels sick. Tony’s only said that to him one other time, when they were on Titan where the smell of blood mixed with the red dirt in the air, and Peter had held onto to Tony’s hand so hard he had been worried he’d break it.

 

Not that that had mattered, in the end. Peter had kept holding it, holding Tony, until they’d come back home with Dr. Strange and Colonel Rhodes had had to peel Peter away. 

 

“Tony, please…” But Tony keeps walking towards the door and he’s not looking back and Peter, Peter is trying to follow him but he can’t. He can’t take a step towards him at all. “Tony, please! Tony…!”

 

\--------------

 

“Peter!! Peter, you’re having a nightmare.” There is a hand on his shoulder, shaking him violently, another smoothing the hair on his head. There’s a woman’s voice that sounds cloudy and frantic and far away, but getting closer. “Peter, you’re dreaming! Wake up!”   
  


Peter’s eyes snap open. His eyes are sore and itchy and his face is hot and wet with tears. He looks up to see who is looming over him and finds a woman staring down at him.

 

Pepper’s crying too.

 

Disoriented, he pushes himself up into a seated position, gaze darting around the dark room and his bearing settles. His expression crumbles when realizes where he is and he covers his face with his hands. 

 

“He’s _gone,_ ” Peter whispers. “I think he’s really gone this time.” 

 

He bursts into tears again. 

 

Pepper sinks down onto the bed, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him close. 

 

“I miss him too, Peter.” Her voice breaks off into a sob of her own and he feels her grip tighten, pulling him closer, pressing her nose into the top of his head where she plants a kiss. Her breathing shutters before she finishes with a whisper. 

 

“I miss him too.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> this started as a short drabble and grew. it's a bit clunky but I wanted to get it posted because I'm TRYING to pre-emptively deal with my worst case scenario and this has been getting in the way of the other stuff i'm trying to get done.


End file.
